


In Which Clint Uses His Powers For Immature Acts

by MsDamia, tiziano



Series: Coulson's Headache [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Mention of Nick Fury - Freeform, Mention of Tony Stark - Freeform, This is pretty much cracked, Weapons should never be given to bored men, all the things one should never do with their powers, don't look for sense, its kind of like playing tag but not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:49:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsDamia/pseuds/MsDamia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiziano/pseuds/tiziano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil knew it had been too quiet of late, he just hadn't quite expected Clint to blow up part of SHIELD HQ with a toy from Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter the First: Clint blows up a building.

The call was not entirely unexpected, truth be told. Things had been quiet for the last two months, more than enough time for certain agents to start getting cabin fever. The phone had rung, Phil had picked it up on the first ring (as he usually did) and on the other end had been a very irritated Maria Hill. Again, not entirely unexpected. A lot of things irritated Maria, though if you didn’t know her well you likely wouldn’t notice, and so Phil nodded and made soft sounds of understanding until she finished explaining that the reason there had been a fire in ammunitions closet 4B was because someone was practicing with experimental weaponry. Stark tech to be specific, and if you wanted to be more exact they were concussive incendiary arrows. 

“I see.” Phil felt his right eye twitch on the outer corner, just once, and took a calming breath. 

“Find Barton. Now.” Maria had ordered, the phone clicking ominously in his ear before he gently hung up his own hand set. He stared at the phone for a full minute and a half after that, not really seeing the molded plastic. His mind was racing through the blueprints of the building which housed ammunitions closet 4B and factoring in the closest exits and bolt holes a man like Clint might partake of. After mentally flagging the top three places he thought the archer might go, he picked up his cell phone and scrolled down to contact #4. He never saved names with the numbers, it was a healthy sort of paranoia given how many spies he worked with and how often Darcy seemed to be playing with phones which weren’t her own. 

The phone rang once before it was answered. Barton didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. Phil could hear a soft whirring noise with a bit of a hum and crossed off three of the seven bolt holes in his mental list. They stayed on the phone together, both of them silent, for a long few minutes. Phil was the first to speak, not because he cracked, but because he simply didn’t have the time to out-wait Clint today. 

“My office, fifteen minutes.” Phil told him. He waited expectantly for another few moments.

“Yes, sir.” Clint agreed a moment later. 

“Go by the clean room and get the ventilation dust vacuumed off you first.” Phil continued before hanging up and turning back to his computer. He had far too many emails to dig through these days, he missed the action days before he took on the managerial duties. Well, maybe not entirely. He was certainly happier knowing details which he could quietly hold over other people’s heads. There was a certain air that was hard to fake when you knew all the answers and stayed completely silent. Maybe that was why Darcy accused him of being sadistic? 

Fifteen minutes later there was a short rap on Phil’s office door followed by it opening. Clint Barton walked in, still in black BDU pants, a black Under Armour shirt, and looking a bit singed on the edges. He stood, legs shoulder width apart and hands clasped behind his back, and stared straight forward while Phil folded his hands on his desk and leaned further in. 

“Did you have fun?” Phil asked, his face calm and blank. A smirk cropped up on the other man’s lips. 

“Yes, sir.” There was definitely a note of smug satisfaction to Clint’s voice at the moment. Phil smiled blandly, knowing he was about to kill that feeling. 

“Ammunitions Closet 4B and the west wall of Firing range Bravo have been destroyed. The fire ruined the carpeting in the hall, and there are scorch marks which will need to be repaired.” Phil listed calmly, watching Clint’s face. The archer didn’t so much as twitch. That would change. He pulled a thumb drive out of his desk drawer and pushed it across the desk so it sat innocently in front of the other man. “These are the reports which will need to be filled out, in triplicate, and turned into Human Resources by the end of the week.” 

“Sir?” Barton frowned slightly and stared down at the thumb drive. Usually Phil filled out all of the paperwork for the messes his Agents made, sadly he was extremely busy and Clint was getting antsy. Locking him down to a desk for a few days was the easiest way to keep an eye on him. 

“You will be filling out any paperwork accrued outside of missions, Agent Barton. I trust you don’t need an HR refresher course on how to properly fill out action and damage reports?” Phil tilted his head just a touch, calmly pleasant as he stared down the man standing before him. 

“No, sir. I’ve got it, sir.” Calloused fingers made the little drive disappear. The man was no longer smirking, either.

“You’re dismissed.” Phil allowed a blandly pleasant smile to spread on his lips as the Agent turned and walked out of his office. That had gone easier than he’d anticipated, not a single complaint from the archer. Well, not yet at least. He was sure he would get comments in the near future. For now he was going to put the entire issue out of his mind, there were Agents in the Middle East playing soccer with the local children and, unfortunately, falling for no doubt adorable grins and funneling American candy into the local economy and making certain governments and terrorist agencies a little jumpy.


	2. Chapter the Second: Clint avoids the fallout.

He had expected comments, concerns, and maybe even a few poorly drawn stick figures depicting Agent Barton’s ire and complete disgust with filling out paperwork. These things occasionally did happen, after all. Phil was very good at expecting things, he planned for all kinds of scenarios and then planned the responses, the backup responses, and the possible variations which might change said scenarios. It was part of why he was so good at what he did. There were very few individuals who could surprise him, it was probably why all of them seemed to be under his supervision. Sadly that also meant situations such as the one now occurring, sometimes happened. Because Phil couldn’t always anticipate Barton. 

“Three days ago you placed a team of Agents on Agent Barton to keep him at his desk. You claimed it was a training exercise.” The Deputy Director was leaning against the front of her desk, arms crossed as she stared down her lean nose at Coulson, who was standing before her. 

“That is correct.” Phil agreed, knowing it wasn’t necessary. He wanted to sigh, but he refused to admit to any lack of control at this point. There was a dull throbbing which had started behind his right eye about two days before and he could feel it thumping just a little bit harder as he stood before the unamused woman. 

“Who was it for?” She asked, her chin raising just a touch. Phil widened his eyes and lifted his brows just a touch, asking for clarification without using words. He didn’t need the clarification, he knew exactly what she meant. He was just irritated and Maria would now assume he was playing some sort of long game with her rather than him dropping the ball. “Was the exercise for Barton or for the team of agents?” She asked calmly, a slight twitch in her jaw. 

“Both.” Phil smiled blandly and Maria’s eyes narrowed a touch. If she’d been a snake he would have been sure she was gone to launch herself at his throat. It was a good thing most agents couldn’t read her like he could, her vicious expression wasn’t all that different from her hungry expression. 

“Two hours after placing the guard on Barton Ms. Darcy Lewis showed up, distracted the guards and Agent Barton left through the ceiling tiles. It took them another hour to realize he was gone.” Maria continued, her lips pinching together a touch. 

“Ms. Lewis can be quite distracting.” Phil admitted.

“Yes, so I’ve noticed. It’s become quite the epidemic throughout SHIELD of late.” Maria bit out. 

“Yes, I’ve taken her use of cleavage and Angry Birds under advisement for future operation protocols.” The man agreed, smiling blandly. To be fair, Darcy did have rather impressive breasts. She’d also slept with one of the guards before and there was talk of a drinking competition of some sort with the other. Something about the young woman made it easy for her to keep her lovers as friends. She was mouthy, sarcastic, fun, beautiful, and apparently compassionate and smart enough not to burn bridges. It didn’t worry him so much as it concerned him. There was a difference. 

“Two days ago Agent Barton gave his guards food poisoning. The guards locked him in the room and he slipped out through the vents to the neighboring office where he opened the 6th floor window and shimmied down a flag pole to the street. Intel shows that he then went to Ihop.” The brunette went on, her blue eyes glued to his. She was not budging. 

“Yes, he brought me back stuffed pancakes.” Phil nodded. She blinked once at that. 

“Strawberry?” She asked, entirely entranced by the idea of food. The woman might have the figure of a model, but she ate like a sumo wrestler. 

“Apple.” He corrected. She wrinkled her nose. 

“I don’t like the texture of cooked apples.” She told him, shaking her head a bit to get the thought of apple stuffed pancakes out of her head. 

“So noted.” Phil responded easily, tucking the information away for later. 

“Yesterday Agent Barton dislocated his shoulder to get into the infirmary where he sedated his guards. The medic on duty was apparently inventorying the supply cabinet with Ms. Lewis.” The Deputy Director was not at all amused, but "inventorying" wasn’t a euphemism this time. The young woman had offered to give the Medic, a one Stephanie Powers, a hand with inventory for an upcoming audit over a week ago and had just happened to have some spare time when Barton called for more help. 

“Very enterprising.” Phil agreed, his face still in it’s bland smile. 

“Today though, Phil, today I would like some kind of results. I want paperwork filled out and turned in, or I would like a full write up on what revisionary training these agents need to be going through since apparently our training has dropped in recent years.” Maria informed him. 

“Understood, Agent Hill.” Phil nodded affably. 

“Dismissed.” Hill snapped watching as he calmly turned and left her office. 

Phil felt the dull throb behind his eye quicken once more as he stalked the halls to his own office. As he closed the door behind him he pulled his cell phone out and scrolled down to contact #6. He smiled as the phone connected. 

“Good, you’re back early. I have a mission for you.”


	3. Chapter the Third: The bird is caged.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil always wins in the end.

Phil smiled fondly as he watched the security feed through his computer screen. Clint had started the morning with a bright smile, leaning back in his chair and shooting sharpened pencils at the ceiling panels in an attempt to make some sort of design. When the door had opened quietly he hadn’t bothered looking behind him. He’d been messing with his fellow agents for a few days now and knew what to expect, they weren’t very good at thinking outside of the box. Then his chair had been kicked forward so that he was sitting up straight and he had turned to see a curvy redhead with no compassion in her eyes. 

“Fuck.” Clint had sworn, shoulders drooping just a touch. 

“It’s Agent Romanov today, actually.” She’d given him a mirthless smile and crossed her arms expectantly. Shortly thereafter she had led him to his new office so that he could focus in a manner she deemed appropriate. That was five hours ago. Natasha had allowed him a single bottle of water and when Clint had asked to use the bathroom after drinking it, she had gestured to the now empty bottle as though it should explain everything. It was almost magical, how quickly her presence seemed to make the thumping in his head become something easily ignored. The ringing of his desk phone had Phil turning away from the redhead currently cleaning her fingernails with the razor sharp edge of one of her knives. 

“Coulson.” He answered. 

“Agent Coulson, the files you asked us to tag have now been turned in.” A man’s voice advised from the other end of the line. Coulson’s eyes moved back to the security screen. Clint was waiting patiently in his chair, apparently afraid to move lest he incur the wrath of Natasha. 

“Thank you.” Coulson hung up and eyed the screen before deciding he might as well give the news in person. He twitched his jacket a bit straighter after standing and then walked out the door, down three levels, and through four halls. He nodded pleasantly as a guard checked his ID and then allowed him through to the containment cells. He lifted his finger to let the guard know he was ready and the door slid open. 

“Seriously?” Clint demanded, standing up and staring at the other agent. 

“I do believe you brought this on yourself.” Phil advised, unruffled by the other man’s shouting. 

“You sicced _Natasha_ on me!” Clint threw his arms out in an expansive gesture, the drama of the circus still alive in his soul. Phil turned to the redhead in question, a single eyebrow raised. She lifted her right shoulder in response, her lips quirking into a smile. 

“Don’t make me do so again.” Phil replied, turning his attention back to the other man. 

“He won’t if he knows what is good for him.” Natasha returned, getting to her feet and glowering at her partner. She’d wanted a pedicure and a massage today, not to babysit her best friend after he’d gone and pissed off their handler. 

“It wasn’t that bad.” Clint defended, hands going into the pockets of his pants as his shoulders hunched up defensively. 

“You brought Ms. Lewis into it. Twice.” Phil frowned disapprovingly as he stepped back and gestured for both agents to exit the cell. The location had been Natasha’s idea, she didn’t believe in doing things half measure. 

“Half assed, Barton.” Natasha smacked her partner on the back of the head with an open palm. She also didn’t believe in letting the man getting away with things she didn’t approve of. 

“Use what assets you have.” Clint shot back. Natasha stared at him and then turned to face forward. It was a basic admittance that she would have done the same had she needed the help.

“It was pretty fun though, wasn’t it?” Barton asked Phil, a wicked smile lighting up his face with an unholy glee as he turned to walk backwards through the doors that another Agent had buzzed open for them. 

“Barton.” The word was a warning, Natasha wasn’t going to put up with the antics and she wasn’t going to put Phil through that either. She was quietly (and a bit frighteningly) competent and after the Loki incident she had taken it upon herself to remove stressful things from Phil. Whether that was people or acts or noises didn’t seem to matter. Phil still wasn’t sure what had happened to Agent Lawrence, to be honest. Director Fury was being very tight lipped about it and the instance was redacted to eyes-only status. Phil’s eyes weren’t included. 

“Darcy thought it was fun.” Barton defended.

“Ms. Lewis thinks filling the vents with glitter and declaring everyone to now be Unicorns fun.” Phil reminded the other man. 

“The Last Unicorn incident.” There was a fond tilt to Natasha’s lips that made Phil frown. He didn’t want to know. He definitely did not want to know. Knowing meant paperwork. 

“Or the Iron Man’s Junk incident?” Barton asked with a laugh of his own. Phil cleared his throat and tried not to wince. How an obnoxious diatribe from Tony in regards to Culver University should lead to what happened at MIT was still confusing to Agent Coulson, but Darcy was now a bit of a legend at that school. Still, all in the past now. 

“Speaking of Iron Man, does Tony have more of those arrows you were testing?” Natasha asked, curiosity on her face. 

“He should, he said he was refining them.” Clint grinned over at the woman and Phil felt the throb behind his eye return. 

“This time let’s blow up Tony’s labs.” Natasha declared, walking away without a second look behind. Clint let out a whoop of laughter and Phil reminded himself to just keep walking. Anything done at SI with Stark Tech was considered outside SHIELD jurisdiction. If Barton chose to use his expertise for the help of DoD weapons testing while off duty … well the paperwork would be Pepper’s to deal with.


End file.
